


Caught Up (In the Moment)

by teh_gelfling



Series: Bits and Bobs [6]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bestiality, M/M, Mech Preg, Multi, Slash, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 08:05:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5367743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teh_gelfling/pseuds/teh_gelfling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Pretty sure this is the longest piece in this series so far. By far.</p><p>If you feel like it, leave a comment or critique. I love knowing what my readers like and don't like about my stories.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Caught Up (In the Moment)

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty sure this is the longest piece in this series so far. By far.
> 
> If you feel like it, leave a comment or critique. I love knowing what my readers like and don't like about my stories.

Sunstreaker dimly registered Ratchet's demand for the sparkling he was carrying and stopped long enough to hand over the bitlet. That smell was stronger here by the berthroom door, and his spike pressurised all at once, right into the panel covering his array.

Well, that wasn't comfortable in the least.

He palmed the release for the door and his panel at the same time and both slid away silently. He sighed in relief at the loss of restriction on his spike and was hit with a wave of pure lust when the heat-scent intensified. It filled the berthroom, thick and sweet and heady. Processors fogged instantly and he was left with the base desire to rut.

Sunstreaker shook his head in an attempt to clear it and glanced around in search of his mate. There, in the corner behind the berth. In a... nest? And were those the medibay blankets? What was left of them anyway, it looked like. Most of them had been shredded and gathered into a fluffy pile. And there was one of the sofa cushions, peeking out from under one of the soft woven blankets they kept on the berth.

At least the bug hadn't shredded those. Things cost a small fortune and Ratchet would definitely not be pleased.

Bob perked up from where he was curled on his side as soon as he noticed Sunstreaker. His tongue slid from his valve with a loud _schlick_ and he scrambled to present himself to his mate. Aft up, valve exposed and dripping, front low to the ground.

Sunny dropped to his knees and traced the edges of Bob's swollen valve with golden fingers. He found the external nub and worked it in tiny circles, pulling needy whines from the Insecticon. Bob wriggled a bit, trying to get those fingers inside him.

Sunstreaker grabbed both hips and held his mate still. He lowered his face to get a good look at the valve. While it didn't look exactly like the valves he was used to, it wasn't completely unfamiliar, either. A little larger, the folds thicker and more textured... definitely more lubricant than most mechs produced. It dripped in viscous strings down the insides of Bob's thighs, translucent pink streaking the plating.

His nose hovered mere centimeters away while he studied the valve, breathing in more of that intoxicating scent. He nudged forward and lodged the tip of his nose into the end of his mate's valve, licking out a little to taste him. The flavour on his chemoreceptors was rich and strong, far more so than his own during his heat, and he wanted more.

Bob whined at the little lick to his folds. Sunstreaker panted into his valve, mouth open and tongue flicking along, gathering up lubricant and drinking it down like engex. When the outer surface had been cleaned, Sunstreaker focussed on teasing the external nub and suckling what he could of his mate's entire valve.

Bob shrieked in pleasure when Sunstreaker finally plunged his tongue deep into his valve. Callipers spiralled down in an attempt to keep it there, but Sunstreaker pulled out only to repeat the process over and over. Different nodes were stimulated each time and Bob writhed in the golden mech's grip as overload took him.

\oOOo/

"Well, looky here. I've caught a tiny bug~"

Dash squealed in surprise and a bit of fear. No one had ever held him like this, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Actually, he was pretty certain he didn't. It made his belly feel weird, and the grip around his ankle wasn't comfortable at all. Wriggling only made it all worse, so he just hung there, making pitiful noises and the most pathetic faces he was able.

"Not very nice of your creators to keep you locked away so nobody gets to meet you. Oh, wait. Everyone already _has_ met you, haven't they? They're just keeping you away from me~"

"Whirl, put him down," Ratchet thundered from down the hall, three wide-eyed and very much awake sparklings clinging to him.

"Hmm... No, I don't think so. See, I've been trying to get a look at these critters since they were born, and you lot won't let me. Here I have perfect opportunity, and you're not gonna stop me because you're afraid of what I'm gonna do."

“And what is it you’re going to do?”

“You honestly expect me to tell you my plans? _Ha_!”

Dash shrieked as he was moved too fast and his fuel tank flip-flopped.

“Goddamnit, Whirl, you stupid fragger. Put the kid down before you make him sick.” Ratchet took an abortive step forward, stopping when the copter raised the buglet to eye level again.

“'Tupit fragger!” Dash crowed.

Whirl blinked. Ratchet froze, spark sinking. Of all of the words they’d tried to get Dash to pronounce correctly, that was the one he got. Of course.

Another blink of that yellow optic and suddenly Whirl was laughing. “Oh! Oh, that’s priceless!” He doubled over in mirth, his movements quick and jerky, and the sparkling in his grip tried to curl up onto the pincer holding him captive.

\oOOo/

Bob wriggled on Sunstreaker's spike, callipers cycling in sequence up and down his length. It wasn't nearly enough. He needed more.

But oh, it felt so good, too.

His mate couldn't fill him the way one of his own could, but he was certainly trying. And Bob would take that enthusiasm over the ones who'd driven him out any day.

He arched into the next thrust and let the little tendrils in his valve caress the head of his mate’s spike. He was very happy to hear Sunstreaker bellow something incoherent next to his audial. He was trying to encourage these higher volumes from his mate, wanted him to let go, to abandon himself to the breeding. And it seemed to be working.

Every thrust came harder, faster, accompanied by grunts of pleasure or Bob's designation or those most loved of words, yes and good. Sunstreaker threw himself into the interface, pounding away as the charge rose higher in his frame. Molten bliss pooled behind his array and his movements became more erratic until finally...

... _release_.

Hot fluid filled the Insecticon's valve, pulled toward his gestation tank by gravity. Bob rumbled happily under Sunstreaker as the mech’s systems reset. It wasn't long before his mate was moving in him again, his own breeding coding having taken over and assuring that the heat would be satisfied no matter what it did to the golden mech.

Bob only hoped that their other mate returned and took over before the situation got to the point where Sunstreaker began to overheat due to lack of fluids.

\oOOo/

"Whirl, shut up! Put the kid down before you drop him!"

"That was _great_! And your face! Oh, oh, I haven't laughed this hard since... since... Primus, I don't know when!" He righted Dash, but still dangled him, from the collar faring this time. "Ah, I think you're a keeper, Bug. I can teach you everything you need to know~"

" _Whirl_!"

Ratchet relaxed for a split second at Ultra Magnus' bark –  only until Whirl reflexively let go of the sparkling he held when he turned to face the blue and white doom heading directly for him – and then his spark stopped. There was no way he would be able to catch the bitlet; he wasn't close enough and he wasn't as fast as he used to be, weighed down with sparkling as he was.

Gadget, Shadow, and Gage were left huddled together as the medic did his best to get to Dash. A blur of white eclipsed the buglet and the screebling wail ended abruptly in ecstatic chitters when Dash realised he was safe.

"Ratchet. Ratchet, here. I got him, he's fine." Drift offered up the sparkling after he got little claws prised out of his armour.

Ratchet was already running scans as he collected Dash and moved straight into a direct exam of the places Whirl had grabbed. There was some slight scuffing of the plating there, but no actual injuries. He clutched the sparkling close as emergency and battle routines shut down, and the shakes started. Just slight tremors throughout his frame, but they were noticeable and he hated them.

Somewhere down the hall, Ultra Magnus was lecturing an indignant Whirl. Rodimus made occasional random comments that sounded remarkably like he was _defending_ the copter and at that moment, Ratchet would have liked to strangle the captain.

"Hey, Doc. Are you alright?" Drift stood with his hands on his sword hilts, looking at Ratchet with concern. "You're looking a little murderous, there."

"Fine," he snapped in automatic response, then thought better of it. The mech _had_ saved Dash from what could have been a painful landing, after all. "I'll be fine. Bit of a scare there, takes a while to calm down."

"Hmm." The white speedster glanced around. "Where's Sunstreaker?"

Ratchet heaved a sigh and turned to gather the other sparklings. " _Busy_. Don't ask."

Drift blinked, then his optics blanched. " _Oh_. Do... um, do you need help with them?" He gestured to the buglets.

Ratchet unceremoniously plopped Gage into the speedster's arms. "That would be appreciated. I was going to see if Rung would watch them, but I'd trust you with them, too, if you're offering."

Gage stared up at Drift with huge, rounded optics, little hands flat against the white chestplate. Drift blinked and cocked his helm, looking back. "Rung would love them. Better choice," he murmured.

"He certainly seems to, and that's nonsense. Are you or were you busy? If you don't want to watch them, I won't force them on you. But I think you'd be great with them."

Gage still stared, but now the little hands kneaded the metal under them and optics blinked slowly. His helm slowly lowered to Drift's chest and a sleepy sigh escaped him.

"There, see?" Ratchet quirked a grin at the little goofy smile on Drift's face. "You'll do great. They'll sleep most of the time, and when they wake up you can give them a small cube of energon each. Snacks are okay, but if you give them too many, they'll have a _lot_ of energy to burn off. _Especially_ Dash." The violet-eyed sparkling chirped and clung tighter to Ratchet like he was afraid of being put down.

"Okay, okay. They're pretty cute, too." He grinned down at the dozing bitlet against his chest. "Help me get them to quarters?"

"Thanks, kid."

“Yeah.”

\oOOo/

Sunstreaker lay on Bob’s back between the sharp bits of kibble, spike still buried in his mate. Even with breeding protocols enabled, he could only produce transfluid so fast. It gave his cooling system a little bit of time to get him back to acceptable ranges, at least.

Not enough, though. As soon as his tank was close to full again, he was moving, pumping, racing headlong for that next overload. They came so fast, so close together, with those tendrils teasing his spike, that he had no idea exactly how many he’d had. He just knew that the temperature reports on his HUD kept getting more severe, but he couldn’t stop. Not while Bob was still in his heat cycle.

Another overload took him, and he barely had time to think before he was working toward the next. His HUD pinged him with a warning about dangerously high temperatures and low coolant and energon levels. He dismissed them. It would be a small price to pay to provide for Bob’s clutch.

Bob felt his mate’s spike slide from his valve after his last overload, then heard the thud of the mech landing on the ground. He turned quickly and sure enough, Sunstreaker was lying on the deck in what looked to Bob like a very uncomfortable position and steaming from each seam.

He tugged his mate’s legs out from under him and into a more natural pose. Then he fretted. He was in heat; if he left their quarters for any reason, he might end up distracted by another mech willing to contribute to his clutch. But if he didn’t get help for his mate, the mech might overheat to the point where he’d suffer actual damage.

What to do?

Then he remembered the comm system he had and the frequency for his other mate they’d made him memorise _just in case_. It took him a moment to find the programme for the hardware, and then another moment to remember how to call Ratchet. Eventually, though, he managed to get off a comm ping, hoping that would at least alert his white mate to the difficulty he was in.

\oOOo/

By the time they got to Drift’s door, Gage and Shadow were both out, Gadget was well on his way, and Dash was still clinging desperately to Ratchet’s shoulders. Gage had slumped sideways in Drift’s arms and his face was half squashed into the white armour while his mouth hung open, a bit of oral fluids threatening to escape.

The three bitlets who weren't fully awake were settled on the berth. Gadget curled up around Gage and blinked sleepy optics at Ratchet and Drift, then laid his head on Shadow's belly. The dark-coloured oldest was sprawled out on his back and solidly sleeping, mouth open and making little chirpy noises.

Ratchet attempted to dislodge Dash from where he clung, but just couldn't reach. Drift watched for a moment, then stepped in to help. Dash looked at the offered hands then back to Drift several times, chirring quietly to himself.

"It's okay, you can go to him. That's Drift, and he's going to watch you until I get back. He's nice," Ratchet encouraged the sparkling.

Drift tried and failed to completely smother the smile Ratchet's words inspired. The brief flash of teeth caught Dash's most intense attention, and he jumped at the speedster. Once secure in the mech's arms, he reached for his mouth, pushing and pulling at lips to see the teeth behind them.

"Sharp!" he crowed once he exposed the fangs Drift tried so hard to hide. "Lookkk, sharp!"

"Yes, Dash, his teeth are sharp. Leave them alone. Don't bother him about them, okay?"

"But– _Sharp_. Likkke me." He bared his own teeth, showing off the longer points on several of them.

Drift extricated his face and laughed quietly. "Yes. Just like you."

Dash grinned, and then it turned into a huge yawn. Four purple optics blinked in turn, and he wiggled a little in Drift's arms. "Down?" he asked, pointing at the mound his siblings made on the berth.

As the buglet snuggled into the pile, Drift turned to Ratchet. “That was a lot easier than I expected.”

Ratchet chuckled. “He’s pretty worn out. Lot of excitement today.” He watched Dash settle himself around Gage’s other side and halfway over Shadow’s legs, then moved to the door.

“Are you really going to frag him?” The words seemed to surprise the speedster even as they emerged, and his mouth snapped shut.

Ratchet’s expression flattened. “Who?” he asked warily.

To his credit, Drift looked contrite. “Bob. Pretty sure Sunny’s not in heat again this soon, and I know you’re not, but you’ve kind of… got this, well, _smell_ on you. I didn’t really notice until I asked about Sunstreaker." His gaze shifted to his feet. "Just figured the only one left was Bob. And since you share quarters– Sorry, it's not my business."

"You're right. It's not your business."

"I'm not judging, you know. I don't think you're disgusting or sick or anything if you do frag him. I just..." He trailed off, the tips of his audial flares turning a light shade of pink.

“You just what.”

Drift twitched.

“Well?”

The speedster vented deeply. “I just wish… Primus you’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

Ratchet sighed. “I swear, kid. If you tell me–”

“I like you. A _lot_ , Ratchet. Since Rodion, even though I didn't really understand then. And I just wish it was me. Even once.” He rushed through the confession, afraid to stop. “I know you’re with Sunstreaker. I’m not expecting you to leave him. I’m not expecting you return my feelings. But I… I just wanted to tell you for so long, and I never knew how. And now I have, and it’s too late. And I’m… okay with that. Mostly.” He moved closer, optics on Ratchet's, watching him intently. "Though I'd really like to kiss you right now," he murmured huskily and raised a hand to cup the medic’s cheek.

Ratchet started at the touch. “Drift…”

The speedster leaned in, lips microns away from Ratchet’s. “Push me away, tell me no, and I’ll stop.” Deadlock’s voice, dark and gravelly, thick with lust. “But I’ve wanted to do this for _ages_.”

Ratchet shivered, and that tiny motion was enough for contact. Drift pressed forward, licking out to tease the mouth against his. Ratchet gasped when the sensation went straight to his interface array, and Drift’s tongue slipped between parted lips to taste him.

Interface protocols roared to life with a vengeance, gestation coding focussing them on his valve, and suddenly Ratchet wanted nothing more than to be filled over and over, right now. He moaned into Drift’s mouth and pulled the speedster's hips to his.

Drift came more than willingly, so easy to lead where Ratchet wanted him to go. Back through the door between berthroom and living area he manoeuvred them. Drift didn't have a sofa, which would have been Ratchet's first choice after the berth, but there was a cabinet/desk unit he could bend over, and also the cushioned pad that Drift sat on to meditate.

"Where do you want me?" Ratchet asked, voice rough and lips moving against the speedster's.

Drift groaned and pulled away just a bit to look over the room. "There. On the mat. Primus, Ratchet, I want you so much! Want to feel you, watch you overload, to know that I gave you that." He shivered in anticipation.

"Preference for spike or valve?"

"My spike, your valve."

"Good." Ratchet arranged himself on the thick mat, finding he could easily fit his entire frame on it. Maybe it wasn't just for meditation, then. Either way, he didn't have time to think about it with Drift descending on him with a hungry yet awed expression.

There was more kissing, Drift pulled Ratchet’s tongue into his own mouth and sucked on it. Ratchet retaliated by licking at Drift’s fangs, running his tongue over the entire surface of each. There was a sharp inhalation and Drift’s optics flared bright as his hands roamed all over Ratchet’s frame, teasing every single armour seam they came across.

"Primus, you're beautiful, Ratch. Want you so bad."

"Then show me."

Ratchet's cover slid away, baring the already-slick, swollen lips of his valve and the glowing nub at their apex. Drift made a little strangled moan as he traced the outer edge of the array and released his own panel, his mostly-white spike pressurising immediately. Red biolights swirling around it pulsed in time with the spinning of his spark. Fingers teased at Ratchet’s nub, pulling a pleasured gasp from him, then moved lower to push into the slick valve, testing how ready it was.

“I swear, you don’t spike me now, I’m flipping us over and riding you till you can’t get it up any more,” Ratchet growled in Drift’s audial.

Drift grinned and pressed his spike to the dripping valve. “Is this better?” he asked as he slid inside smoothly.

“YES! Oh stars, yes. Now move. I need it. Please, Drift.”

Drift moved. He pulled every trick he’d ever learned on his lover, pushing him into several overloads. Ratchet finally raised shaking hands and pulled Drift’s hips to his, clenching his valve around the spike in him. “Overload for me. Fill me up.”

Drift could do nothing but comply. His spike pulsed as transfluid jetted into the medic, spurt after spurt. Primus it felt so good, like no other frag he’d ever had.

In the middle of round four, Ratchet froze as he got a comm burst containing just static from Bob. It was unusual enough that it pulled him right out of the mood, even as Drift reached completion inside him. “I have to go. Take care of the bitlets, and I’ll be back as soon as I’m able. Well, me or Sunny.”

Drift just stared, surprised at the sudden change in demeanour. Finally it sunk in, and he watched Ratchet leave with transfluid and lubricants still streaking his thighs and white paint scuffs on the red paint of his array.

\oOOo/

Ratchet practically ran back to their shared quarters. They’d learned Bob had a comm system, but he’d never used it before. If he was using it now, something had to have happened to Sunstreaker, and Ratchet was pretty sure what it was.

Sure enough, Sunstreaker was lying on the deck, steam rising from every armour seam, optics dim. His spike was still pressurised and Bob was trying to clean it up, not wasting any of the rich breeding transfluid.

“Sunny. Sunstreaker, answer me.”

A faint groan wafted from the prone mech and the medic dashed into the medbay through the back door of their quarters, startling First Aid and Ambulon. He grabbed and subspaced several coolant packs and a few of energon, then pulled a tubing pack and needles from a cabinet and wheeled an IV stand toward his quarters.

“Ratchet? Do you need some help?” Aid asked.

“No, it’s best you stay away. Bob might tackle you right now. I’ve done enough sticking people with needles to know how it’s done.”

“If you need help, don’t hesitate to call one of us,” Ambulon put in. “We can deal with Bob.”

“No. Just leave us be. We’ll be fine soon as I get this coolant into Sunstreaker.” And he disappeared back into his quarters.

He moved Sunny to the berth and popped the latches on his chestplate, then pulled it off. A gout of steam rose from his protoform and Ratchet dropped the chestplate on the ground. He began setting up the IV, then found the main coolant line running through his mate’s arm and gently stuck the needle into it. He hooked up the tubing and let the coolant drip begin. Hot air blasted from every vent on the former frontliner. Gradually, Sunstreaker’s temps began to drop. Once they were back in the upper ranges of safe, Ratchet began another drip with the energon packs in the main energon line in his neck.

Bob came over, whining, looking between his golden mate’s spike and the transfluid-streaked thighs of his healer mate. He could smell the other mech on him, the pretty one who always smelled like something burnt, but a pleasant burnt. His mate had apparently needed transfluid and got it from that pretty white mech. Not like he could have gotten it from Bob or Sunstreaker, though, since his spike was locked away while his heat ran its course and his first mate was trying to provide for his clutch.

Mm, yes, his clutch. Now that his other mate was here, he could provide more transfluid for his clutch. He dropped into mating position just in front of the medic, showing off his valve. It kind of surprised him when his mate responded immediately and sank his rigid spike directly into Bob’s valve.

Like Sunstreaker, he still didn’t fill him properly, but with the way he moved, he really didn’t need to. His mate was skilled in the art of breeding, which pleased Bob immensely. Clearly, he’d bred many a mech in his lifetime, and had learned how to please all of them. He let the tendrils in his valve caress the spike in him, surprising the mech. The drawn-out “Ohhh”  and then Bob’s designation being cried out signalled the first of many overloads, and transfluid rushed into his valve and down into his chamber.

\oOOo/

“Ama?”

The tiny voice pulled Drift from his meditation. Well, it wasn’t really meditation, simply the memory of his experience with Ratchet. He turned toward the door to his berthroom to see the sparkling peeking out.

“Hi. You’re Gage, right? Do you want to come sit with me? Or are you hungry?”

The little one’s optics darted around the room. “Want Ama,” he said in a quavering voice.

Two of the others poked their helms around the doorway as well. Then Dash careened into the room, bounced off a wall, and took a flying leap into Drift’s lap. The sparkling was solidly built and pushed Drift over when he landed. The other two – Shadow and Gadget? He thought those were their names – edged out into the main room, looking all around.

“Hi, you,” he said to Dash, laughing. He pushed himself back upright and rolled his optics with a smile when the buglet wrapped himself around the back and top of his helm. The two older sparklings were poking around his front room, opening drawers and looking in them. To their credit, they didn’t seem inclined to pull things out, and on the rare occasion they did, they just looked the object over then put it back.

Gage, on the other hand, was still poking just his head and the fingers of one hand out around the doorway, and the fingers were certainly only there to help him keep his balance. He looked almost ready to cry, and Drift figured this one had some separation anxiety.

“Here, Gage. Come here and I’ll hold you until Ratchet or your ama comes to get you. Ratchet left some energon cubes for all of you, if you’re hungry.” Two pairs of antennae flicked upright at the mention of energon, and Dash scrambled down his back. “Can you reach them on that shelf?” He pointed out the shelf he’d put the little cubes on and there was a mad scramble for them. Even Gage came out of hiding to get his.

The little black and white sparkling gradually made his way over to Drift, clutching his energon to himself. Drift held out his arms, but wasn’t prepared for the way Gage burrowed into him with a tiny sob. White arms closed about the bitlet, holding him tight while he hiccupped through his cry. Drift just hummed to him, modulating his voice to be as soothing as possible. He moved over to the wall so he could sit upright without pulling something and just held the sparkling. Shadow and Gadget came over and sat on either side of him, their energon gone and their hands petting what parts of Gage they could touch.

Gradually, the sparkling calmed and began to drink his energon. Each time Gage lowered the cube, Drift wiped the wetness from the little one’s face. The tears still fell, but there weren’t as many now, and soon enough they stopped altogether.

“Where’s Ama? I want Ama.”

Drift hugged the sparkling close. “Your ama’s busy right now, but I’ll bet he’ll come pick you up soon.”

\oOOo/

Ratchet hoped Bob’s heat would come to an end soon. He shouldn’t be pushing himself this hard. He’d already had to take a break for coolant and energon so he wouldn’t overheat like Sunstreaker had and to check the drips he had on the golden mech. The sparkling inside him had taken up kicking early on, but now there was just a pressure every so often which made Ratchet nervous. It came and went and it wasn’t too bad  yet, but he was afraid he’d already pushed himself too hard.

Sunstreaker was beginning to come around. He kept talking about how good it looked to see his mates fragging. Ratchet wasn’t sure if he was completely lucid yet or not. It was difficult to focus on anything but fragging Bob, the slick slide of his spike in and out of that valve, the tendrils within that valve that caressed him into overload so quickly…

As he spilled into Bob’s valve once more, a sharp pain hit him along with the pressure, and he knew without a doubt that he’d pushed himself too hard. The breeding protocols demanded he finish his mate’s heat, but he counted the minutes between the pain/pressure. They were too close together.

He was in labour and the sparkling was coming fast.

 


End file.
